


Danatole: The unthoughtful man and the drunk

by Sappho_is_my_role_model



Category: Natasha Pierre and the Great Comet of 1812 - Fandom
Genre: Anatole Kuragin - Freeform, Beer, Fyodor Dolokhov - Freeform, M/M, dramatic anatole, drunk, mentions of drinking, moping
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-24
Updated: 2019-09-24
Packaged: 2020-10-27 18:41:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,894
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20765111
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sappho_is_my_role_model/pseuds/Sappho_is_my_role_model
Summary: Anatole and Dolokhov had a fight, Anatole ignores his feelings until a drunk man comes through his door.





	Danatole: The unthoughtful man and the drunk

**Author's Note:**

> I’m an inexperienced writer so please be kind and give me mercy.

Anatole was sitting in his study, reading poetry when he was a kid. Some old books that Hélène used to read him.

See Anatole did this when he was upset, he went back to the good ole days. The days when his sister would kiss him night, the days when he didn’t have consequences for his actions, days when everything was better.

For Anatole had ran from his best friend the previous day. His best friend, Dolokhov has confessed feelings of unholy desire to Anatole. Freya had confessed love to Anatole.

Anatole yelled and screamed at him. Dolokhov took it and told him to think about it. And think about it he did. He thought and Anatole came to a conclusion this morning. That he did not want to think about it. He wanted things to return to normal.

It had been almost 24 hours. It was 8:00 in the morning and all Anatole planned to do was read and ignore his thoughts. All of them. He pretended it was just the usual, just like every day.

Anatole picked up the next small novel and the next and the next. Soon a whole day had passed. 

It was a quarter till 12 when he heard a knock on his door.

“ _ Allez-y _ , come in!” Anatole called out closing his book.

A maid slid in with a smile on her face “My prince, Hélène is here with a friend.” 

“Oh, let her in, I’m not busy!” Anatole smiled letting himself indulge his novel, not caring for his sisters nonsense. He could definitely use a distraction. His sister was the perfect person.

The maid smiled. She curtsied and proceeded to leave the room. 

Then not 5 minutes later Hélène walked into the room with Dolokhov, looking mighty furious. Dolokhov was clinged over Hélène, wrapped around like a wounded animal.

“Found this drunken man at the bar. Could you care to explain why?” Hélène shifted dropping Dolokhov, who proceeded to the floor laughing. “This man will not share anything besides your name and babbling nonsense.”

Dolokhov was laughing and fumbling around. He was trying to get up, but once he did he fell again. He was drunk, so very drunk.

“That man who’s laughing on the floor, needs to be away from me for now. I don’t want to see him.” Anatole spat with fire. He stood from his desk pointing and thrashing his hands around at his dear sister as he spoke “I don’t want to be around Dolokhov.”

“Please Anatole I’m tired, Pierre found him when he was out getting his drinks. We are tired of this child of a man.” 

The blonde French man glared at his sister, he did not want to meet eyes with that scrowndral.

“I do not wish to be near Dolokhov right now.”

“Anatole-“

“H-he's right ya know!” Dolokhov said through his laughs. the man stood up, trying to stand tall “If I was him I’d never want to see me again! I barely want to see me as it is!” 

Anatole batted an eye at Dolokhovs statements but didn’t say a word.

“Anatole please whatever happened between you two, take him. Just help him. He is in misery.” She smoothed her gown and walked away.

“Where are you going?!” 

“Home! I need a drink myself.”

Anatole could not believe the situation he was in. He couldn’t imagine what Pierre and Hélène had to deal with. But with what had happened in the past 24 hours he’s not sure what.

Sighing, Anatole retrieved Dolokhov into his arms. Dolokhov was a heavy man. He is a good 5’11 and weighs about 173. While Anatole is a 6’0 man but has the weight of a limp noodle. Anatole is trained in many things, but he did lack upper body strength sadly.

“Dolokhov-god-Move your legs!” Anatole shrieked almost falling.

Dolokhov did not respond verbally, he just moved his legs weakly.

Anatole guided him up each step of his stairs, carefully entering his room. 

“You can walk the rest of the way. You can sleep

On my bed.” 

“Lovely.” Dolokhov preceded to hiccup as he crashed on Anatoles bed.

Anatole pulled out a chair and watched as Dolokhov put his nasty wet shoes into his bed.

“If your going to lounge around my house please kindly take off your coat and shoes, they’re filthy.” He seethed grasping his temples. He was so annoyed. He didn’t know why, but he just was.

Dolokhov took off his shoes and his coat. He shivered and pulled a blanket over himself. Anatole watched annoyed at this weak display his friend was showing.

Dolokhov pushed his head out of the blankets and let out a wet cough.

Anatole softened, his facial features relaxing. “Do you feel ill freya?” Anatole May have been upset at his friend, but it wasn’t to the point of not caring for his health.

Dolokhov nodded in response, coughing once more.

“Anatole I don’t feel so well.” Dolokhov groaned coughing more violently. Suddenly Dolokhovs eyes opened wide and he sprang up from the bed. “Bucket! Bucket! I’m going to t-throw up.” Dolokhov urged motioning to a small bucket filled with discarded papers.

Anatole let out a fierce groan and threw the bucket into his friend's lap.

The sick man let out two loud coughs, before hurling into the bucket. It lasted for one minute and soon he collapsed back, gasping for breath.

Dear Anatole sucked up courage. He picked up the bucket, almost vomiting himself from the smell and threw it out for the maid to handle later.

“That was utterly repulsive.” Anatole muttered. Soon he looked to his side to see freya on his side, looking visibly upset. No tears, but sad.

“Dolokhov..” Anatole sat down in the chair once more “I know it takes a lot to make you drunk. Why did you drink this much?” 

Dolokhovs eyes did not move, they stayed focused. To avoid Anatoles eyes.

Dolokhov had to be upset. He deserved to be. He let out his heart and the fear of being killed for it was terrifying.

“Dolokhov. Did you think I was going to turn you in?”

Dolokhov shook his head.

“Did you think I was going to hurt you?”

Dolokhov shook his head again.

“Did you think I was going to leave you?”

Dolokhov paused. Then he nodded. “Anatole. You don’t u-understand. I know your not the man to hurt me nor get me arrested. But your a man to leave. And to leave would hurt me most.” Dolokhov moved to his other side away from Anatoles gaze.

“Dolokhov, I wouldn’t leave you. That’s absurd! Your an amazing friend. A best friend. I’m not going to leave. I just…I just need time to think. I have many thoughts running through my mind.”

“That’s the first time you thought about anything.” He laughed.

“Because it’s you...Dolokhov. Get rest. You need it.”

Dolokhov was already fast asleep. Snoring.

Anatole however was not, he only slept a mere 3 hours that night. 

He thought and thought and thought. He tossed and turned on his sofa. 

If he was to be infatuated with Dolokhov, he would be guaranteed happiness until he was bored again.

If he was to reject the poor man, he’d give a man grief for the rest of his days.

Maybe not grief. Maybe the man would grow to live without him. And leave. 

He didn’t want that.

Anatole felt something close to what he felt with his previous lovers. However, it felt completely different. He felt warmth and happiness. But he also felt ice and fear. Anatole could hear the birds sing and people scream. It was absolutely exciting yet terrifying.

Anatole couldn't figure out what was different.

He didn’t want to lose Dolokhov, Anatole felt like Dolokhov would pack up and leave just to tell him that he respects his descuo

‘I don’t want Dolokhov to leave.’

Anatole bolted straight up. That’s the difference with what he’s feeling. He knew Dolokhov. The pain, scars, fear, trauma, stupid descuons. He knew it. And he loved every inch of it.

All the fighting, all the dances, and everything. Anatole loved Dolokhov for him.

Anatole stayed up thinking more and more. Every laugh, the mischief, all of it he loved every inch of it.

The books he was reading, it was all about love. Was he in love with Fredya? Love was pain and healing all at once. Is that what he was feeling with Dolokhov?

Soon the morning came and Dolokhov awoke groaning. Anatole rushed to his aid. 

“Come now, what do you need?”

“Anatole?”

“Long story, what do you need?”

“Um…water?” Dolokhov sat up immediately regretting that choice, he clutched his head with his left hand and frowned.

Anatole went down to the kitchen and retrieved a glass of water.

When he went back up he saw Dolohkov laying covering his eyes with his arm.

“Here’s your water.” Anatole handed the water over to Dolohkov.

“Thanks.”

Dolokhov sipped on the water for 5 minutes. It was an awkward, until he finally spoke. 

“So how did I get here? I don’t remember a thing”

“Hélène. she found you drunk.”

“Why’d she bring me here?”

“She was annoyed? And plus what’s wrong with, here?”

“Anatole, you don’t reciprocate feelings of my kind. That is what’s wrong.”

“She doesnt know I don’t blame her for taking you here” Anatole shifted uneasy. He was really bad at talking to Dolokhov. He didn’t have the right words to say.

Dolokhov got up and put on his boots.

“Where are you going?” Anatole inquired latching onto Dolokhovs arm.

“Home. you need to be left alone. For the time being or indefinitely.”

“What no!” Anatole shrieked unmanly.

“What?”

“Listen i-I.” He took a breath in. “I don’t know how to feel exactly. I’m not sure exactly what it is but it’s not friendship. It’s not hate. I think it’s love. B-But! It’s different. It’s not Natasha, or my many many other lovers.”

Anatole pauses that sounded bad. He smiled uneasily.

“The point is that I think I’m in love with you. Your smile, your scars, you laugh, I love it all. And i don’t want to rush it. So c-can we start from the beginning?”

Dolokhov looked up at Anatole with a harsh glare before softening as Anatole put his hand out. Dolokhov started for a moment, only a moment, before he spoke. 

“Fine, it’s only because your cute.” Dolokhov shook his hand, admiring the blush that ran up to Anatoles face. Anatole didn’t really know what to say, he’s not really used to his best friend/now lover? Flirting with him back. They’ve kissed before sure, but every man had kissed their best friend. It was like common knowledge. He did the best thing he could do, talk out his ass.

“Your one to talk.” Anatole laughed. Not his best, but it was the best he could manage. God he felt red and nervous.

Freya clutched his head and hiccuped. Dolokhov groaned and anatole started laughing.

“It’s not funny!”

“You got a hangover so you have to suffer.”

“I hate you.”

Dolokhov took off his boots and layers in the bed once again. Anatole joined him this time.

“Hi.” Anatole snuggled up awkwardly into Dolokhov 

“Hi. This is very awkward.”

“Very.”

“But it's a start.”

“Yeah a start.” 

  
  
  
  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for sticking to the end. I hope it wasn’t too bad.


End file.
